


How (Not) to Pop the Question

by BouncyPickle



Series: Dating and Other Disasters [5]
Category: Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Deaf Clint Barton, Fluff and Angst, Good Guy Wade Wilson, Good Parent Wade Wilson, Happy Ending, Human Disaster Clint Barton, Idiots in Love, Insecure Wade Wilson, Kate Bishop Is a Good Bro, Kidnapping, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Meet the Family, Misunderstandings, Pansexual Wade Wilson, Self-Esteem Issues, Wade Wilson Breaking the Fourth Wall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 14:20:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17489603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BouncyPickle/pseuds/BouncyPickle
Summary: Wade thinks he's being subtle. Clint thinks he's being dumped. Kate thinks the two are complete idiots. As always, Kate is right and Wade and Clint are hopeless.Well, mostly hopeless.





	1. Chapter 1

It had only taken Wade two months to lose interest in him. Clint wanted to say that was some kind of record but as far as his relationships went, that was pretty par for the course. Actually they had lasted longer than Clint had been expecting. Maybe Clint was reading too much into it, he knew how he could get. Clint was a master of self sabotage so when he wasn’t running, like the one time he literally ran out of a girl’s bedroom window in _her_ underwear because she asked him if he wanted breakfast and that had spooked him like an idiot, he was letting himself screw everything up so his partner could see just how unlovable he was and quit on him like everyone else in his life.

This time, he was the one that had asked Wade to move in with him. He was the one seeking his partner’s commitment which was stupid because Clint was downright _terrified_ of what it meant to be in a committed relationship. It was just that Wade made Clint feel safe and loved in a way he didn't think he'd ever feel again, or deserve to feel again. Which just made this suck so much _more_.

On top of it, living with Wade was way better than Clint had been expecting. Sure he had to get used to coming home to a kitchen filled with thousands of waffles because Wade had been feeling bored that day but even that had turned out alright. The two of them took all the extra food to the homeless shelter down the block and Clint was reminded that giving back to the little guy warmed his heart like damn near nothing else. Clint didn’t mind the bit of strangeness that came with Wade.

Clint had been living alone for long enough that little habits like leaving the bathroom door open and forgetting to put on pants in the morning were hard to break. Wade had his own habits too, like talking to himself at all hours of the night instead of sleeping or hogging all of the blankets when he actually did sleep, but Wade had made it easy to skip past the tip-toeing around each other phase by not even blinking an eye at Clint’s weird quirks. Wade would slap Clint’s ass when Clint was stretching in the morning but he also remembered to put Clint’s hearing aids in the charger when Clint forgot at night. Like that, Wade had made himself right at home in Clint's life.

Clint knew he was a fuck up but the cool thing about Wade was that he was a fuck up too. He didn't shy away from the human disaster, tire fire, hot mess that Clint was and Clint didn't have to be afraid of being himself. It was refreshing, if a little unnerving, how quickly he had felt so comfortable in their relationship. That was something he hadn't had since his glory days with Bobbi or felt with anyone but Kate, really. Clint trusted Kate completely and, shockingly, he was beginning to trust Wade too. Which _sucked_ now. Clint was really, really going to miss Wade when he was gone.

He hoped he actually was reading too much into it, because that’s what Clint _always_ did, but it was hard to misinterpret Wade’s behavior. Wade left at all hours with flimsy explanations, absconded with blind old ladies at two in the morning, and answered weird texts and calls that he didn't want Clint to see. Still, Wade always _came back_ and that was a hell of a lot more than Clint had honestly been expecting. Clint could have probably ignored his alarm bells going off if it wasn't for the more subtle behavior Wade had begun to display. The man was distant, avoiding conversations with sex, and sometimes Clint caught Wade staring at him, looking away before Clint could meet his eye, like Wade was trying to decide if Clint was everything he'd hoped he'd be. Clint knew the moment Wade saw how pathetic Clint really was, he’d get smart and leave. Clint wished he'd never figure it out because he was desperate to hold on to what they had even if it was doomed. God, Clint was such an idiot.

Clint was stretched out in front of the couch, perfect plank form, as he lowered himself down and pushed himself back up in even, practiced strokes. It had been awhile since he’d started his day with a hard workout and the tension in the muscles of his arms and abs was a welcome one. He was wearing a thin, purple tank top that clung to his skin and a pair of sweats that cinched just below the knee. As he continued, Clint went all the way down, until his nose touched the floor, and then he lifted himself all the way back up fluidly. Across from him, Wade let out a dreamy sigh.

Clint paused, mid push-up, to look at Wade, “Are you _ogling_ me?”  

He was sitting across from Clint, pretending to stretch, and wearing a pair of deviously short shorts Clint had stashed away in his closet from a very unfashionable time in his youth and a woman’s tee Clint was pretty sure belonged to Squirrel Girl, if the atrocious coffee color and _Go Nuts!_ logo were anything to go by. He looked ridiculous and Clint loved everything about it.

Wade grinned, “Am I not allowed to appreciate my lover's titillating form? Seriously are you carved out of marble or something? I mean, damn, you are _tight_.”

Clint flushed despite himself and went back to his push-ups, “When I suggested working out together, this isn't exactly what I had in mind.”

“Me neither,” Wade replied as he bent forward over the v of his spread legs to grip the bottom of his heel, “I was expecting way less clothes and way more frotting.”

Clint didn’t pause this time, “What the hell is frotting?”

“Oh you beautiful, naive soul,” Wade giggled, “Let the master train you in the ways of superb man-on-man action.”

“Sure thing, _sensei_ ,” Clint snorted, “but first I gotta get back in shape. I’ve been slacking off lately.”

Clint didn't say that he was terrified Wade would dump him even quicker if he let himself get any fatter. Which was probably stupid--Clint certainly _felt_ stupid thinking it. He wasn't fat. Sure he had been putting off working out so his muscles had lost a little tone but Clint was an Olympic level athlete. It would take more than a few missed workouts for him to get anything close to flabby. It wasn't like Wade only liked him for his muscles anyway. Clint was pretty sure.

“Back in shape?” Wade scoffed, “You are the most in shape non-superpowered person I’ve ever met. Especially considering how much junk food you eat. What’s your secret?”

“ _Exercise_ ,” Clint emphasized his point by shifting his weight to one hand so he could do his push-ups with one arm.

“Now you’re just showing off,” Wade chuckled but his voice had lowered an octave.

“Maybe,” Clint smirked where Wade couldn’t see it, staring at the floor, “Gotta stay _tight_ , after all.”

“Fuck,” Wade groaned and there was a thunk that finally had Clint glancing up at him. Wade had his forehead resting against the floor between his spread legs, “You don’t know how hot it is when you say shit like that.”

“I don’t?” Clint played dumb, grinning when Wade’s head jerked up to scowl and gleam at him in equal measure, “I guess you better show me then, sensei.”

Wade scrambled across the floor and all but tackled Clint, rolling until he was sitting over Clint’s hips. “That’s not fair, Fuck Bunny,” Wade caught Clint’s wrists and pressed them into the floor on either side of Clint’s head while Clint smiled up at the other man, letting himself be pinned down easily, “Being called ‘sensei’ is kink number seven on the ‘The Hottest Things Clint Barton Can Call Wade Wilson’ list. That’s right under ‘the better Wolverine’ and just above ‘big papa’!”

Clint raised a questioning brow, “You _want_ me to call you big papa?”

“I love it when you call me big papa,” Wade growled but the glimmer in his eye made Clint think he’d missed the joke. That happened a lot with Wade. _This_ Clint was really going to miss; the playful, _easy_ flirting and banter, “Come on, let’s forget about this exercise nonsense and make out instead.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Well…” Clint shifted underneath Wade, testing the weight of the other man over his hips. When Wade watched him, a smirk on his face, his hands tightened around Clint’s wrists and Clint had to swallow thickly at the arousal creeping up his throat, “Sex is a _form_ of exercise.”

Wade’s smile broke into a grin, “That’s the spirit,” and he leaned down to kiss at Clint’s throat. A glisten of perspiration had just begun to form on his skin and when Wade licked it away, Clint shivered. Just as Wade rocked his hips back, grinding his ass against Clint’s dick, there was a knock at the door. Clint jumped but Wade didn’t stop himself from sucking a hickey into Clint’s throat. Again there was a knock at the door, louder and more persistent, and Wade groaned.

“Ignore it,” he insisted, nipping at the little red mark he’d made, “Maybe they’ll go away.”

“I know you’re in there! Open the damn door!” _Logan_ shouted from the other side.

Clint and Wade scrambled apart so fast Wade tripped and fell on his face. Instead of asking Wade if he was okay, Clint mouthed the word _Wolverine!?_ at him and Wade shrugged hastily, shaking his head. Clint braced himself and plastered on a smile before he cracked the door open far enough for him to block their apartment from view with his body.

“Logan, hey, what’s up buddy?” Clint winced at his own awkward tone. He watched as Logan’s eyes darted down to the no doubt obvious hickey on his throat and scrubbed a hand nervously through his hair. Logan scowled. “Is this an Avengers emergency or-?” Logan shoved past Clint’s shoulder and cut him off, charging into the apartment. Clint rolled his eyes and shut the door, “Okay, come on in, I guess.”

“Not here for you, Hawkeye,” Logan grunted, “Just need to borrow your boyfriend,” his voice held an edge that meant his visit was probably not a friendly one.

“Why, Logan, I’m flattered,” Wade dropped his hands to his waist and cocked his hips, “but I’m a taken man and in this relationship, we don’t like to share. Unless you’re Spiderman.”

“Or Daredevil,” Clint added and Wade gasped in delighted surprise.

Logan glared at Wade, grunting shortly, “We got shop to talk.”

Clint saw Logan’s eyes dart over his broad shoulder, glancing at Clint. Obviously, he didn’t want Clint to be a part of the discussion. Wade sent Clint a conflicted look and Clint smiled at him, trying to be way more understanding and reassuring than he felt.

“I was going to go for a run anyway,” Clint turned away from Wade to glare at Logan as he slipped on a pair of sneakers by the door and a hoodie he had thrown over the kitchen counter, “Try not to destroy the place while I’m gone.”

He hesitated, wanting to kiss Wade goodbye. Instead his eyes flicked to Logan’s impatient expression and Clint chickened out. He tossed a wave over his shoulder as he left the apartment and tried not to feel hurt that Wade didn’t say anything. That was stupid. Wade was allowed to have a life outside of him. Clint was being unfair, reading too much into Wade's every move. He knew doing that made him clingy and needy and overall insufferable. Shaking off his tumultuous thoughts, Clint started running. Immediately he set a punishing pace, hoping to lose himself in the redundant thuds of his shoes hitting the pavement and only mostly succeeding.


	2. Chapter 2

Clint was so focused on his workout he almost missed the shout coming from his right. He hadn’t really been paying attention to where he’d been going but the sound was a person in pain and it immediately put Clint on alert. Apparently, he’d run a couple miles and ended up in one of the less reputable parts of Bed Stuy, not that there were any _reputable_ parts, really. He came to an abrupt stop and turned toward an alcove between two sets of brownstones, barely an alley, and saw movement. Then he heard what sounded like crying and was running before he really thought it through.

Inside the alley a man was holding a woman by her shoulders, shaking her. She was crying and there was a nasty bruise along the side of her face. Clint didn’t have to wonder where it had come from because in the next moment the man’s fist was raised.

“Hey!” Clint shouted, dashing up to them and catching the man’s arm, “What the-” but a fist swung around and clipped Clint’s chin, cutting him off. Stupid. Asshole had _two_ arms.

Clint stumbled back and the man turned his anger on him, face red and furious. “What the fuck?” he yelled, “The fuck you think you’re doin’!”

“Easy man,” Clint tried, rubbing at his aching jaw, “No need to go down on two assault charges today. You do that to her face?”

“What’s it to you what me n’ my bitch do?” the man snarled and a cold kind of anger churned in Clint’s chest.

“I’m an Avenger,” Clint explained, “and assault is a crime, last time I checked.”

The man laughed in his face, “You’re an Avenger? What’re you Iron Fist or something?”

Clint sighed, “Why do people keep asking me that? I’m _Hawkeye_. With the bow and arrows-nng!”

He had to give the thug kudos because Clint had not been expecting the blow that caught him right in the gut. This guy was fast but Clint was faster. He caught the man’s wrist instead of stopping to gasp for air, and twisted. When the bad guy dropped to his knees, Clint punched him in the mouth.

“Look, I don’t want to hurt you,” Clint tried, “So don’t give me a _reason_.”

Looking back, Clint would curse himself for dropping his guard. In his defense, the man who Clint had pinned was a whimpering mess and definitely no longer a threat. The pipe that landed across his shoulder blades was a surprise, but turning to see the woman with a bruise on her face raising the pipe for another blow was the real shock. Clint couldn’t react before another burst of metal cracked into him, pain exploding in his skull, and he was knocked to the ground. Once he was down, she really laid into him and the man joined enthusiastically. Clint tried to shield his face as the two of them beat the shit out of him with minimal success. God, today completely sucked.

“Grab his wallet,” the man said and Clint groaned into the pavement but couldn't move quickly enough to stop the woman from rummaging around in his hoodie pockets. She came up empty handed and the man laughed down at him, “Figures.” _Yeah, figures_.

Luckily, or as lucky as Clint could get in this situation, when the man spit at him, he missed. Clint didn’t bother getting up until he was sure he was alone. His back protested when he pushed himself to his feet. Getting hit with a pipe hurt like a bitch and Clint had no doubt there was going to be a nasty smattering of deep purple bruises all over his back. The lady may have been small but she had a mean swing. Clint wiped at the sweat trickling down the side of his face and his hand came back bloody.

“Perfect,” he grumbled, wrapping his arm around his stomach when the bruises on his ribs made themselves known with a burst of searing pain that stole his breath. Then he remembered the long trek back to his and Wade’s apartment and groaned, “Just perfect.”

When Clint finally limped his way home, Wade wasn’t there. Not that Clint had really been expecting him to be. Stuck into the counter with a knife was a note that read: _Cuddle Bug, Had to go save Logan, be a big hero and all that! The man got me with his pathetic puppy eyes. I’ll teach you all about frotting when I get home and that’s a promise. Don’t wait up! xoxo -Big Papa._ There were little doodled kissy faces and a heart with their initials and an arrow going through it drawn along the margins and Clint couldn’t help but smile. Knowing Wade was thinking about him meant a lot more than Clint wanted to admit. He hated that he could feel his heart swell with hope inside his chest even though Wade had left him behind _again_.

Moving into the kitchen, Clint pulled the carton of orange juice out of the fridge and took a drink straight from the bottle. Another bad habit from living alone for so long, he supposed. He took one more long pull before shoving the container back into the fridge and giving the rest of its contents a cursory glance. The leftovers from the Chinese they’d had the other day were gone, one of Wade’s very late night snacks no doubt, and everything else had to be cooked or in the very least combined. Clint didn’t bother.

Instead, he grabbed a bag of frozen carrot chips out of the freezer and pressed it to the side of his throbbing head. He was lucky enough that the blow landed an inch above his ear and missed his hearing aid. That would have sucked even more than the steadily oozing wound did on its own. He probably didn't need stitches but Clint couldn't really tell. Judging by pain levels alone, it wasn't the worst blow to the head he'd ever had. No, Clint had had way worse.

Any motivation Clint felt that morning he'd left behind in an alley with the tattered remains of his dignity. He sighed. It was before noon but Clint felt like shit. His skin was still a bit sweaty from his workout and there was a splash of blood in his hair that had smeared down his neck but Clint decided not to bother with a shower. He limped into the living room, glanced at the couch, then turned and headed up to the bedroom he shared with Wade. Without Wade here to judge him, Clint was going to take a nice, long nap.

Clint jerked awake, white hot pain flashing through him so suddenly it stole his breath. Wade was pressing into his back, hugging him around his middle. It wasn’t an uncommon position for them when they were sleeping together so Clint shouldn’t have even reacted. He did though, gasping, eyes snapping open as he flinched away from the pain reflexively. It was dark in their bedroom so he had definitely slept way longer than he meant to and he could hear his own harsh breathing so he had forgotten to take off his hearing aids, again.

Behind him, Wade immediately pulled away. Clint groaned into his pillow, annoyed because he wanted Wade to cuddle him but he was in a considerable amount of pain and also because he really didn’t want to talk about getting his ass handed to him by a couple of civilians. As if Wade needed any more proof that Clint wasn’t worth his time. The lamp flicked on and Clint closed his eyes, avoiding the brightness but mostly avoiding Wade.

“What the _fuck_?” Wade said behind him at the same time a hand fell to his bicep, pushing so Clint rolled forward and Wade could look at his back, “What the fuck happened? Are you okay? Who did this? I will first-degree those assholes-”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Clint cut him off, his head still too sore for Wade’s rambling, “I got mugged,” then Clint thought about how he hadn’t even been carrying his wallet and laughed to himself, “Okay, they didn’t get my wallet so I guess I just got my ass kicked,” he waved a dismissive arm, “Whatever. It’s not as bad as it looks. I’ve had worse.”

“You say that a lot,” Wade shot back. Clint figured that was fair; he probably did, “and I’m pretty sure if you could see your back you’d disagree. It looks like Colossus tried to do a Van Gogh impression with his fists,” his fingertip traced along one of Clint’s shoulder blades and Clint hissed, “Yep. La Mousmé is glaring at me from your rhomboids.”

Clint rolled to face Wade, with only minimal wincing, “I’m okay, really. Nothing a little ice won’t fix. It’s what I get for being an idiot anyway,” Clint chuckled at his own expense, “I tried to save a lady who definitely didn’t want my help. She could probably bat for the Yankees, way she used that damn pipe.”

Wade stroked a hand down Clint’s cheek. “You’re not an idiot,” he said as Clint’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that. Honestly, Clint thought Wade was going to make fun of him or something. Wade leaned in and kissed Clint’s forehead, “I’m sorry you got your ass kicked by an ungrateful damsel with a swing to put Babe to shame. I could turn her into a kabob if you want. That’s not sexist, right? I’d skewer a man too. _Anyone_ who hurts you is at immediate kabob-risk and that's a promise.”

“That’s really...sweet,” Clint smiled, somehow endeared even though he knew Wade wasn’t actually kidding, “but how about we just let it go? She…” Clint hesitated, remembering the look in her eyes as one he himself had worn before--fierce loyalty with a hint of indignation and a lack of self worth all masking fear, raw, heart-wrenching fear, “She was just scared.”

Wade nodded as if that made perfect sense, “Preemptive fear. I have been told I bring it out in people.”

“She wasn’t afraid of _you_ ,” Clint chuckled and caught Wade’s fingers as they carded through his hair. He brought them around to kiss them and Wade’s eyes softened, “How did everything go with Wolverine?”

Wade scoffed and rolled his eyes dramatically. He didn’t seem to mind the change of subject, immediately starting a tirade about _ungrateful mutton-chopped old bastards_ who _wouldn’t know a good idea if it bit them in their Canadian balls_ and who apparently _don’t consider popsicles appropriate garnishes for chili cheese fries_ and who _haven’t been written right since the Wein-man died at the hilarious age of 69, may he rest in peace._ Clint didn’t even bother trying to follow, instead he nodded his head and hummed in agreement and snuck Wade’s fingers into his mouth so he could suck on them, distracting Wade to a stuttering mess until he declared, “So fuck Wolverine.”

“No thanks,” Clint grinned around Wade’s fingers, “I’d rather fuck the _better_ Wolverine.”

Wade slipped his fingers from Clint’s mouth to grab him by the chin and pull him into a sloppy kiss. His tongue dove into Clint’s mouth at the same time Wade turned his head, pressing into the kiss deeply. Clint moaned when Wade's teeth clacked into his own and Wade misunderstood, pulling back.

“Is that a yes?” Clint panted, ducking forward to kiss at the rough skin of Wade’s throat, “Affirmative consent is the new sexy, so I hear.”

“It’s not a yes, it’s a _hell yes_ ,” Wade’s hands scrambled to divest Clint of whatever clothes they could, “Now get these pants off so I can rock your _world_.”

Clint yanked open the button of his jeans and let Wade shove them down. Fingers tangled into his hair to drag Clint back into a kiss at the same time Wade wrapped his hand around Clint's cock. Clint’s moan was swallowed by Wade's mouth. Then Wade was rolling closer, until their bodies were pressed flush against each other and his cock could slip into his grip alongside Clint's. A desperate groan got caught between their mouths and Clint shivered when Wade parted their lips for a quick breath.

“ _This_ is frotting,” Wade growled against Clint's mouth, “Thoughts? Ratings? Recommendations?”

“‘s good, ten stars,” Clint rambled, “kiss me.”

Wade grinned into Clint's mouth and happily obliged. Later, after they were both sweaty and naked and panting in each other’s arms, Wade said something into Clint's hair. Having knocked one of his hearing aids out during their enthusiastic rolling around in the sheets, Clint missed it. He lifted his head from where it was resting against Wade's chest and saw the other man was staring at him expectantly, his face uncharacteristically contorted in worry. Clint’s stomach dropped. This was it.

“What?” Clint asked and Wade winced.

“Nevermind,” Wade waved a dismissive hand, “I knew it was too soon and stupid and that you couldn't possibly be-”

“ _Wade,_ ” Clint reached out and caught Wade's waving hand, “I didn't hear you,” and he pointed at his vacant ear to make his point. He swallowed the trepidation building in his throat, “What did you say?”

Wade smacked himself on the forehead with their joined hands. “Stupid. What kind of asshole forgets their partner is deaf? Real smooth, Wilson,” Wade rambled, clearly talking to himself. When he focused his attention on Clint once again though, Wade looked nervous and that put Clint even more on edge, “I _asked_ : Do you want to meet Ellie?” Clint blanked. That was not what he had been expecting. Wade rambled on, “I was going to see her this weekend and thought it might be cool for her to hang out here. I mean. If _you_ are cool with that. That is-if you don't think meeting my daughter is weird. Or-”

“I met Ellie before. On Halloween,” was what Clint said and not at all what he wanted to say. Scrambling, Clint added, “but I think it would be really cool if she came over to hang out. I'd like to meet her for real.”

“Yeah?” Wade smiled hesitantly.

Clint smiled back, “Yeah.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Clint, we’ve talked about this,” Kate glared at him from his phone. They were ‘face-timing’ so Clint could watch her talk while trying to decipher her phone-garbled jargon through his aids, “People can love you even if you don’t love yourself.”

“Wha-?” Clint flushed, offended, “That has nothing to do with what we were talking about!”

“Then tell me,” Kate’s sharp eyes narrowed, “What _were_ we talking about?”

Clint’s frustration fizzled out immediately. He honestly had no idea, so preoccupied with his own worries that he hadn’t been paying attention. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck and smiled at the other archer sheepishly. Kate just rolled her eyes as if Clint was making her point for her.

“Exactly. I can see you’re clearly worried about _something_ ,” she leaned back in her seat and kicked her legs up onto what Clint guessed was a desk, “And since I know you so well, I’m guessing your little moving in together adventure with Wade spooked you and now you’re absolutely certain no one is capable of loving you--how close am I?”

Clint scowled but eventually admitted with a hefty sigh, “Close enough.”

“Right. And as I said,” Kate continued, waving her arm, “ _People can love you even if you don't love yourself._ ”

“I love myself!” Clint protested on principle alone, “I-I mean-”

Kate held up a hand, “We do not have time to get into _that_. Just, Wade definitely loves you, Clint.”

Clint felt his temper rise. What did Kate know? She wasn't here. She didn't see how Wade was _different_ now. As quickly as it came, his anger faded into the same empty feeling in the pit of his chest Clint always felt these days when he thought about Wade. “What if-?” he really hadn’t wanted to talk about this when he called Kate but now he felt as though he needed to, if only to validate his concerns, “Is that enough?”

Kate squinted, confused, “What do you mean?”

Clint scrubbed a hand through his hair restlessly. “If...If Wade loves me is that-” Clint stumbled through his words, face reddening in embarrassment, “is that enough for him to stay?” he shrugged helplessly, “He can love me and still get tired of me, right? I mean, it’s happened before,” Clint snorted, “it _always_ happens.” The self-deprecating amusement he felt vanished the moment he looked at Kate and caught the expression on her face. She looked _mad_ , so much so Clint actually flinched back from it. It had been awhile since she’d glared at him with such intensity.

“Listen here, you doofus,” she said, pointing at him through her phone screen and Clint could feel the phantom press of that finger on his chest, “I would never lie to you. That’s how we work, right? Trust,” and Clint nodded at her words, “So _trust_ me on this. Wade loves you. He doesn’t want to leave you. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do.”

Clint wanted to trust her so badly his chest _ached_ with it. He blinked at the sudden wetness in his eyes and cleared his throat. Nodding, Clint tried a smile, “Okay, girly-girl. I’ll try.”

Kate nodded back, “Good. Now. If we can get back to it, I was telling you about my dad and how he’s been running a fucking criminal enterprise right under my nose.”

“What?” Clint jerked up in his seat, almost knocking the chair over, “Since when?!”

Kate rolled her eyes, “Are you going to listen this time?”

“Yes!” Clint replied immediately, “What’s going on now?”


	4. Chapter 4

Clint had gotten lost listening to Ellie’s childish rambling somewhere after her listing all the flavors of ice cream that existed and before her questioning why colors and planets couldn’t be made into flavors too. She argued that red would taste like thumbs ups and fist fights and purple would taste like blue eyes and lucky charms. Green apparently would taste like boogers and badminton. Clint wasn’t so sure about that one.

He had to give Ellie credit, much like her dad, she was never boring and all kinds of too much for Clint to handle. He tried anyway. Next to him, Wade was gesticulating with his cone, two scoops of Spiderman Blue and Neapolitan, because his other hand was interlaced with Clint’s. Him and Ellie were arguing over Mars; Ellie insisted it would taste like cinnamon and robots and Wade argued it would taste like nutmeg, plums, and the crushing weight of human existence. Clint figured it probably tasted like rocks but opted to keep his opinion to himself.

Him and Ellie had hit it off the first time Wade had brought her over for a visit. Clint knew Wade had been hesitant and he understood that. Bringing Clint and Ellie together combined two parts of Wade’s life in a way that made their relationship even more real than dating, living together, or making love had. Ellie was the only other person Wade truly cherished and he wanted to keep her safe and even though Clint had never been a parent, or really even _had_ parents, he got it. Frankly, the idea of meeting Wade's kid scared the crap out of Clint too. So, he got Wade's hesitance. Which was why, that first movie night, Clint had turned to Ellie while Wade was making popcorn.

“My Little Pony, huh?” he started, immediately slapping himself for sounding so awkward. He was _trying_ to make a good impression.

Ellie quirked a playful, little eyebrow. It was a move she’d picked up from her dad, Clint recognized. “That’s dad’s favorite, you know,” she smiled, “He only says it’s mine but he likes it the best. I like Power Rangers.”

Clint gave her a serious look, “Mighty Morphin?”

Ellie’s smile spread into a grin. “You know it,” and then she lifted her fist and he knowingly bumped it with his own. After she had apparently decided that she liked Clint because she had warmed up to him immediately. Later, Wade told Clint that Ellie was a Hawkeye fan--even had an action figure and everything, and was equally as nervous about meeting Clint as he had been about meeting her. It made Clint smile whenever he thought about it.

Clint adjusted his hat so it was over the tops of his ears but not covering his hearing aids. He hadn’t wanted ice cream like the other two. Earlier, they had all gotten together for a movie night/whatever the hell Wade and Ellie felt like doing because Clint was a complete sucker for the combined power of their pouting, and ice cream had been declared the goal for the evening. Clint figured it was too cold out for ice cream cones, considering it was late fall and all, but Wade had simply tugged Clint’s black hat with the ‘H’ in the middle down Clint’s ears and promised him it wasn’t. Clint conceded to their wishes just like he always did.

He was watching Wade as Ellie pointed her vanilla cone at him, making some ridiculous argument, and saw a look in Wade's eyes that made his heart halt in his chest. Wade looked so _happy_. The happiest Clint had ever seen him. He must've caught Clint staring because Wade's eyes slid over to meet his own and Wade smiled at him. Two things happened at the same time. Clint realized he wanted to spend the rest of his life getting Wade to smile at him like that. Then a shot rang out.

Clint immediately ducked and grabbed for Ellie, wrapping himself around her and diving for cover. He pulled her under his chin as he shielded them behind a bench. One cursory glance over his shoulder and Clint’s stomach churned. _Wade can’t die_ , he recited to himself and looked away. Wade was laying sprawled out on the sidewalk, what was left of his head smeared across the pavement. A sniper’s headshot, Clint recognized, and really wished he didn’t.

“Ellie, sweetie, don’t look,” he heard himself say as he pressed Ellie’s face down into his shoulder, “Your dad is going to be okay.”

“Did he get shot?” Ellie asked, afraid but bold. Clint wasn't sure exactly how much Ellie was supposed to see or hear but since he'd seen Wade give her his severed finger as a joke once, he was pretty sure she could handle this.

“Yeah,” Clint glanced behind them again, eyes searching quickly for any sign of the shooter, “Headshot. He'll be down for a little while it looks like,” Clint would've punched himself if he could. He was supposed to be reassuring Ellie, “But he'll be okay. I've seen him eat fifty tacos in one sitting, this is nothing.”

“Fifty?” Ellie sniffled but she tried to hide it, “He normally eats twenty. Bet he was showing off cause he likes you so much.”

Then Clint saw it. Sitting at the end of the block was an innocuous white van that Clint remembered was facing the other direction when they'd passed it before. It was an obvious plant and Clint hated himself for missing it. They were being tailed and that could only mean--a gun barrel pressed to the side of his head and Clint knew he was caught.

“Look, this doesn't have to end badly,” Clint said carefully as he turned to examine the enemy. Honestly he was both surprised and not at all to come face-to-face with an AIM goon. They weren't usually so smart with their ops. Clint wasn't about to tell them that though, given the position he was in. He couldn't read the look on the AIM agent's face, not with that stupid yellow helmet on, but her tone of voice gave a lot away.

“Who's the kid?” she asked, trying to sound authoritative, but Clint could pick up the hesitance of being presented with an unknown variable in a practiced scenario.

“I'm-” Ellie started. Clint didn't let her finish.

“She's my tenant's kid,” Clint explained and he knew Ellie was smart enough to play along, “We were just taking her out for some ice cream.”

“I got an A on my Math test!” Ellie smiled, all cute and triumphant and Clint could see the AIM goon's resolve weakening even through her suit.

“Look, her mom is going to be worried sick,” Clint tried, “Please just let her go. Whatever AIM is doing, a kid can't possibly be part of your plan.”

“What's taking so long?” another voice cut in, angry and hurried, “Just grab ‘im and let's get out of here!”

“But-” the woman started, glancing at her companion, “What about the kid?”

“Kid?” the other AIM goon seemed just as surprised that Ellie was there but Clint could tell he was less compassionate than his counterpart, “Just grab her too. We gotta get out of here.”

“Listen. I'll do anything you want,” Clint stared at the woman agent, pleading with her, “but please let her go.”

The male goon answered, drawing his weapon and aiming it at Ellie's back. Clint froze. “Anything?” the man sneered, “You gonna suck my dick too?”

Clint was pretty sure the man was bluffing. He tucked Ellie into his arms even further and didn't look away. “Anything. Just don't hurt her,” he called the man's bluff and figured if he actually wanted Clint to...well, Clint couldn't really say no. Not with Ellie’s life on the line.

The man laughed at him and pulled his gun back. He grabbed Ellie by her hair and hauled her to her feet, shrieking. Without a second thought, Clint immediately followed, grabbing the man's hand and twisting until he dropped Ellie before kicking his gun out of his grasp and sending it skidding across the pavement. His companion didn't try to stop Clint but she did press her gun more firmly into his head.

“Fine!” the AIM goon shouted, “She can go!”

Clint released him and turned to Ellie so they couldn't see the relief on his face. If AIM wanted him, it couldn't possibly be for anything good. And if they wanted him _alive_ then they were probably after information. There was no doubt in Clint's mind that they were going to try and torture that information out of him. Reaching up, Clint snagged his hat off his head and  knelt down so he was facing Ellie. He pulled her into a quick hug.

“It'll be okay,” when Clint pulled his hat down over Ellie's ears, he couldn’t stop himself from wiping a tear off her cheek, “Tell your,” and he almost messed up but caught himself, “Tell your mom I'm sorry.”

“I don't want to leave you,” she said, fierce and angry, and Clint almost smiled. She was so much like her dad.

“You don't have a choice. Your mom needs you to be strong, okay? When you get home, go to Nat's apartment. She left the door unlocked,” he hoped Ellie knew what he was getting at and if not, she'd at least tell her dad, “Now get out of here, kid. Before they change their mind.” He gave her a push and Ellie gave him a tiny nod in return before she turned and ran away as fast as her legs would take her.

Clint stood when the woman agent gestured with her gun to do so and he lifted his arms. They ordered him toward the van and Clint let himself be led at gunpoint to the vehicle, too afraid that if Ellie was still nearby they'd go after her if he didn't. They grabbed his hands, wrenched them behind his back, and cuffed them together. When the side door to the vehicle was thrown open, Clint knew what was coming was really, really going to suck. It was the last thought to go through his mind before someone tazed him from behind and Clint blacked out as his face met the van's hard plastic floor.


	5. Chapter 5

Wade knew better than to doubt Clint’s skills of observation. The man was _literally_ Hawkeye: the world’s greatest marksman, the archer who never missed, the beautiful human disaster who could see everything except for how incredibly ugly and terrible for him Wade was. Which was why Wade knew he’d have to be careful.

The whole plan was Cable’s idea. Which was shocking considering the man had the emotional landscape of fucking Mordor. Still, Wade knew the man was right and if Wade wanted Clint to stick around, Wade was going to have to listen to Cable’s advice. Not that he would admit that to anyone but the voices in his own head.

It had all started when the two of them were targeting AIM and tracking down the remaining asshats who were experimenting on mutants to make super weapons. Oh yeah. The giant robot lady who ripped Wade’s arm off? Not the only AIM scientist working on making weapons out of Stark tech. Also not the only AIM scientist to be carving open unsuspecting mutants to use their genes for biological warfare. Taking them out, though not on Deadpool’s usual list of priorities, wasn’t exactly a chore. Him and Cable had found a facility with _at least_ five dead mutants who hadn’t survived AIM’s bullshit tests before they burned down the whole place with some suped up bomb thingies Cable had had in his belt.

“I just-” Wade started, pausing to shoot a yellow suited goon running away from the flames in the shoulder, “We moved in together a week ago and we had sex for the first time and it was _life-alteringly_ good and I really don’t want to mess this up, you know?”

Cable grunted, lifting his arm to shield himself as debris from the exploding warehouses of nefarity rained down on them, “No.”

“Come _on_ ,” Wade groaned, “You’ve been married before. You know how relationships work. Help me.”

“By that logic, so do you,” Cable turned away to redial his super blam-o gun up a couple notches, “How’s the ex-wife?”

“That doesn’t count!” Wade threw his hands in the air, “Shiklah and I had a marriage based completely on a shared hatred for archaic ideas like arranged marriage and a countless number of mind-boggling and impossible orgasms. Even I know that isn’t what relationships are supposed to be!” Wade rolled and shot at two approaching goons, hitting them in the knees and crippling them, “What about, you know, love and stuff?”

“That why you aren’t taking any killshots?” Cable fried half a dozen goons into ashes with one zap of his gun. God, Wade would kill for one of those. Then he thought about how _disappointed_ Clint’s pretty blue eyes would look if he did and decided maybe he wouldn’t. Cable stopped, staring at Wade for a critical moment. Then decided on something as he said, “You’re doing just fine.”

“Fine isn’t good enough,” Wade huffed like Cable was being dense, which he was, “I’m not-” _good enough_ he didn’t say, “He deserves _perfect_. How am-” and Wade stopped to fire over Cable’s shoulder and hit the bad guy sneaking up behind him, “How can _I_ give him that?”

Cable snorted, like _Wade_ was the one being a meathead. He muttered to himself, “Am I really doing this?” before turning on Wade. “Look. Clearly he sees something in you, right? Guy’s fucking Hawkeye so my guess is he sees something you’re missing. If he doesn’t want some bullshit thing with you then he’s looking for something meaningful. How do _you_ give him that?” Cable dropped a metal hand on Wade’s shoulder and squeezed, “By _being you_. You’re a good man, Wade. You want this to work? Then fucking work for it. Show the guy you’re as serious as he is,” and, much to Wade’s relief, Cable added, “ _I_ still think you’re an annoying ass. Just so we’re clear.”

“Good,” Wade sighed in relief, “That was getting way too mushy.”

Cable scoffed, “You fucking asked.”

It took some incredible sleuthing spywork to find Kate’s number. Well, mostly Wade waited until Clint fell asleep without his hearing aids and took her number from his phone. Still, he left no trace, didn’t even change any contact pictures into hilarious photos of his own junk which Wade was ridiculously proud of. Finding Clint’s brother’s number was a bit more difficult and took a bit of money greasing Weasel’s palms but Wade got that one too. When he finally messaged them, Wade had to shield his phone from Clint’s curious eyes. The other man could not know who he was texting or, more importantly, _why_.

 _r u a dick?_ Wade sent to Barney first, curious to see what his response would be.

 _no u_ the other man replied and Wade decided he didn’t hate him as much as he had before.

 _fair_ Wade answered then added _how do you feel about the gays??_

 _all of em or some in particular?_ Barney was surprisingly quick at answering.

 _if say, someone in ur family was in a gay relationship and living with another man whom he swallows swords with regularly_ Wade sent before asking _how would u feel about that?_

 _wth?_ Barney replied then _who is this?_ and _r u talking bout Clint?_ and another _who the fuck r u?_ followed by _wtf?_ and finally _Clint better b ok or u r fuckin dead_

Wade decided that he didn’t hate Barney. So he did the only sane thing anyone would do and invited the other man to join in Cable’s plan. The more the merrier, he figured. If this time Barney tried to rob, maim, or kill Clint, Wade figured it would give him the opportunity to get some revenge on Clint’s behalf so it was a win either way.

“You aren't even letting me meet him?” Al huffed, “I gotta find out if he lives up to all your talk.”

“Nuh-uh,” Wade ushered the blind old lady back out into the hall, “You are terrible at keeping secrets. If you ruin this for me I will hide surströmming in one of your radiators again.”

“You’re a cruel man, you know that,” Al let Wade walk her down the stairs with an arm on her elbow even though she could get down them on her own, “I still get wafts of that shit when I sit on the wingback.”

“Wingback?” Wade asked, “What happened to the barrelback?”

“Too low,” Al shrugged, “dug into my spine every time I sat down.”

“Good,” Wade patted Al’s shoulder, “The barrelback was neon pink with starfish on it. _Atrocious_.”

Al gaped up at him for a second before snapping, “You told me it was mint green!”

Wade shrugged, “I lied.”

“ _Cruel_ , you hear me?” Al waved a finger in his direction. Well, mostly in his direction, “Are you ever going to tell me what I’m doing in Bed Stuy so damn early in the morning? When you asked for my help I assumed it would be during normal human hours.”

“Oh you beautiful, blind, black, female Ted Allen,” Wade smiled when Al laughed, “You are gonna love this.”

“I hate it when you say that,” Al chuckled, shaking her head, “Are we getting into trouble?”

“No,” Wade answered then amended, “Well... _probably_ no. The night is still young after all.”

Blowing up AIM facilities, even ones in unused warehouses of an abandoned city districts where no one got killed but a few choice individuals who certainly deserved it, drew the attention of the higher powers that be. Which sucked because Wade had to work twice as hard to hide Cable’s plan from Clint but it also worked to his advantage. Since mutants were involved, the X-Men clearly wanted to take point but since Stark’s tech was being used, the Avengers wanted lead. They found a middle ground in a small group of heroes from both teams that Wade knew would eventually seek him out. Logan was a pleasant surprise--just the man he wanted to see really.

“Are you sure you don’t want Hawkeye to be a part of this?” Logan side-eyed him, a thick eyebrow raised, “Avengers business is his business, you know.”

“It wouldn’t be a _surprise_ if I did that,” Wade rolled his eyes as he tossed Squirrel Girl’s shirt off and pulled on his uniform, “Duh.”

Logan huffed an annoyed breath, arms folded and leaning against the counter Wade and Clint had totally had sex on. Not that Wade was going to say anything. Although if Logan’s senses were as good as he was always bragging, he probably already knew.

“I don’t care but,” Logan prefaced and Wade couldn’t wait for the second half of _that_ thought, “this whole thing is a dumb fucking idea. Hawkeye’s not some frou-frou princess. Half the time he reeks like caffeine, desperation, and dirty laundry. He eats out of the trash. I don’t get what all the hullabaloo is about.”

“ _Hullabaloo_ -” Wade repeated, flabbergasted, “It isn’t a dumb idea! This has to be perfect, Logan! Besides, what would you even know?”

“Enough to say chili cheese fries and popsicles aren’t what people eat at-” Logan started but Wade cut him off.

“First of all, how dare you?” Wade pointed an accusatory finger at the other man, “People will eat what I tell them to eat. It is my special day, after all. And what the hell is wrong with chili cheese fries and popsicles? He likes chili cheese fries and I like phallic foods. It’s perfect!”

“Why not chili cheese dogs, then?” Logan grunted, then amended, “No, fuck, I’m not having this conversation with you. It’s stupid. We’re supposed to be taking down AIM not _this_ ,” and Logan waved a hand around, gesturing at Clint and Wade’s apartment.

“Hugh Jackman was wasted on you,” Wade snapped, angry because he knew Logan was at least a little right. AIM was being bad and they were supposed to be heroes and blah, blah, blah. He wasn’t _not_ going to stop AIM. There were a few things he needed to do first, was all.

“You’re helping me because _I_ know where AIM is and I refuse to do this without at least _some_ sane input,” Wade scribbled a note to Clint on the counter, then he remembered the look Clint had given him when he’d left and drew a heart and some kissy faces, so Clint knew he had wanted to kiss him too. Next time he would, exciting and distracting plans be damned, “and also because you’re my only friend who can smell lies and intimidate people into giving me stuff for free with sharp, metal claws.”

“I am not your friend,” Logan growled, “and I’m not doing that.” Wade didn’t need a super sniffer to know Logan was lying, thank you very much.

Wade wasn’t _manipulative_ , exactly, but he knew how to act like an idiot. So when the rich man in the jewelry store was clearly trying to play him, seeing his super suit and equating it to mucho bucks, Wade let him. He did all the appropriate ‘hm’s and ‘ha’s and ‘oh I don’t know’s until Logan simply couldn’t stand it a moment longer. The man growled low in his throat, a warning, and when Wade let the manager talk him into an incredibly expensive, over-priced, silver-plated piece, Logan had had enough. He finally snapped, the poor jeweler met the fierce face of Logan’s fury, but Wade got exactly what he was hoping for--a beautiful, hand-crafted, fine silver number that made Wade’s gonads hard just looking at it.

“Golly, thanks a whole ton,” Wade turned to Logan after the order had been placed. Logan was still fuming, “I just don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here, Wolvie.”

“Oh fuck off,”  Logan growled, “Can we kill some AIM assholes already?”

“No killing,” Wade tutted, “We’re with the Avengers, remember?”

If looks could kill, Wade was pretty sure the glare Logan leveled at him would’ve turned Wade to dust faster than a snap of Thanos’ fingers. Wade just smiled back, “By the way, you’re coming, right? Gonna need _someone_ to sing-”

“Getting a little ahead of yourself there,” Logan huffed, “Barton might not even go along with this crazy shit. Guy’s kind of a dick.”

“Stop talking crap about the love of my life,” Wade shot back, “and come on. AIM isn’t going to kick it’s own ass.”

“Finally.”

Wade groaned awake to a very familiar ache throbbing in his skull and a whirlwind of sounds and colors. Something must have done a number on his brain. Again. It was the feeling of small hands on his chest, rocking him back and forth, that helped ground Wade and aroused a sense of awareness. The colors were his apartment. The voices were familiar.

“-waking up?” a girl asked and she leaned into his line of sight; black hair and a purple dress--blue eyes, “Wade? Are you with us?”

“-n’t understand why they’d go after Hawkeye,” Logan grunted and even in his dazed state, Wade recognized the other man, “Idiot wasn’t even fighting them.”

“They probably don’t know that,” another woman’s voice, deep, smooth, _deadly_ , “He has been spending all his time with Deadpool and they certainly know about _his_ involvement in all this. They probably targeted Clint because they thought he’d be easier to torture,” she snorted dismissively, “Amateurs.”

“Clint…?” Wade grumbled. That name sounded so familiar, felt _right_ in his mouth and on his tongue.

“Daddy!” Ellie cried out, wrapping her little arms around Wade’s waist and squeezing with all her might. Wade immediately hugged her back, purely on reflex, “The ugly, yellow bad guys took Uncle Hawkeye! They-they had guns and they said really mean things to him. I saw them hurt him and put him in a van!”

Wade jerked awake, the fog in his brain gone in an instant. Suddenly images of Clint’s face, bright blue eyes so full of joy and a smile on his lips so sweet it turned Wade’s knees to goo returned to him. Wade remembered a sense of accomplishment, _finally_. Clint was happy and Wade had done that and Wade wanted to do that _forever_ and--black. Wade had been shot. His head snapped up. Kate was there, she had been part of the plan, but so was Black Widow and Logan and Wade was pretty sure Spidey was behind them, sitting on the counter and eating Frooty Hoops straight from the box. Then Wade looked down and realized _Ellie_ was in his arms.

“Ellie! Are you okay?” Wade scrambled to push Ellie back so he could look at her. She had tears smudged down her cheeks and Clint’s hat was on her head, “Are you hurt, sweetie?”

She shook her head and fresh tears filled her eyes, “I’m okay. Uncle Hawkeye made sure I was okay but they’re gonna hurt him, Daddy.”

“Not if we can help it,” Kate said, rubbing Ellie’s shoulder, “We’re going to get him back, don’t worry.”

“The plan?” he asked quickly.

Kate gave him an intense look, “Still on. As long as we find Clint and he’s okay.”

Wade nodded and lifted Ellie off of him so he could stand from where he had been laying on their couch. He wondered who had carried him back and secretly hoped it was Black Widow because that would have been hilarious.

“I made him a promise I intend to keep. Remember the one about the kabobs?” Wade yanked his clothes off, uncaring who saw him in his purple arrow boxers as he pulled on his suit. Then he slid his katanas home, crossed behind his back, “Yeah, someone’s getting _skewered._ ”

“We’re looking for him right now,” Kate said as Wade pulled his mask on, “They apparently caught on to us tracking phones after we found you last time. But they didn’t find the ones in his hearing aids so-”

“I know where they’re taking him,” Wade double-checked to make sure his guns were loaded before slipping them into their thigh holsters, “AIM wasn’t wrong to come after me. I was getting close,” Wade turned to leave, then paused.

He shuffled around in his discarded clothes and found what he was looking for, tucking the little black box into his utility belt right next to his Hello Kitty band-aids. Kneeling, Wade pulled Ellie into another hug and slid the hat off of her head so he could plant a kiss in her hair. Then he pulled the hat on over the top of his mask and stood.

“Well? Are you coming?” he turned away, “We’ve got a damsel to save,” Wade kicked the door open, “And I have a _very_ important question to ask him.”


	6. Chapter 6

This might have been the worst situation Clint had ever found himself in. Sure, waking up in his boxers chained to a chair wasn’t a _new_ experience but he had to confess AIM had really outdone themselves this time. Not only was he stripped and tied up, oh no, Clint was also stuck in a particularly uncomfortable front row seat to a giant _cannon_. Sometimes it felt like the universe was constantly trying to outdo itself in putting Clint through the ringer. He sighed and the action worked to show his captors how unimpressed he was while also relaxing his tense muscles. His body kept trying to shiver in the cold air of the lab and Clint couldn’t let AIM see even that much of a weakness. He didn’t want them to have any kind of upper hand.

“As much fun as this is,” Clint started, addressing the people he could hear meandering around behind him, “Mind telling me what the hell I’m doing here?”

A man tangled a hand into his hair, yanking his head back, and Clint scowled. The guy above him was wearing giant goggles over his eyes and an antenna was protruding out of the top of his bald head, hooked up to some wires that went under his lab coat. He looked _ridiculous_ and it took everything Clint had not to laugh. He mostly managed to hold back but a snicker slipped out anyway. The dumb-looking scientist was decidedly less amused than Clint. A hand wearing a squeaky, bright green, rubber glove wrapped around Clint’s throat, just barely cutting off another laugh.

“Laugh now,” the scientist growled, “because you won’t be when I’m done with you. You see, human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet. You're a plague and we are the cure!”

“Did you-” Clint sucked in a tight breath through the hand squeezing his throat, “Did you just quote _The Matrix_?”

The man paused, “Wha-No, understand,” then he came around to face Clint, still forcing his head back so Clint had no choice but to look up at him, “You are going to help us, Mr. Barton. Whether you want to or not.”

“Seriously?” Clint glared, “You did it again. That’s The Matrix,” he glanced over his shoulder at the yellow AIM goons guarding the exit, “Right?” They just shrugged.

Clint’s head was forced back around only to be met with a solid punch that split his lip and flooded his mouth with blood. He gasped in shocked pain and a moment later, the scientist was leaning in so close Clint could feel the warmth of his breath on his face. He flinched back before he could stop himself, the scientist grinning at his obvious display of discomfort. There was a whir as the gun in front of him flashed to life with a barrage of blinking lights. Clint swallowed uneasily around the hand gripping his neck.

“You hear that? That is the sound of inevitability. It is the sound of your death,” the scientist sounded damn pleased with himself, “Goodbye, Mr. Barton. I’m going to enjoy watching you die.”

“Oh, come on!” Clint snapped, yanking fruitlessly at the binds holding his hands together behind the chair, “That was obviously The Matrix! I expected more from a group called _Advanced Idea Mechanics_ for fuck’s sake. You can’t even come up with your own threats!”

The man dropped Clint and turned to fiddle with the cannon, making sure Clint was in it’s sights, “Well, we _did_ come up with this beauty. She is a gene scrambler, to put it in terms someone of your low intelligence can understand. I am quite thrilled to say you are the first to test her out, Mr. Barton. Don’t fret, your death will not come swiftly or painlessly but you can take comfort in the fact that your suffering will end. Eventually.”

Yeah, no thanks. Clint never liked to put his hands at risk, given how important they were to his archery, but this called for an exception. He knew he could slip the cuff he was wearing at the cost of some fairly large chunks of skin but didn’t give himself the opportunity to fret over it. Clint breathed in slowly as he positioned his hands. In front of him, the gun began to glow an unpleasant orange color. Then Clint exhaled and yanked his hand free.

White hot pain burst across the sides and back of his left hand, but Clint didn’t let it slow him down. Clint leapt from the chair and a burst of light _dissolved_ it behind him as he tackled the scientist around the middle and knocked him to the ground. Immediately, Clint rolled them, so he was on his back and the man’s back was to his chest. Clint wrapped the chain of his cuffs around the man’s throat and squeezed as the other two AIM goons in the room approached.

“Whoa, slow down there Burt and Ernie,” Clint used his legs to trap the scientist’s arms, wrapping them around the man’s chest, “Let’s not be hasty now.”

The two goons shared a look, guns raised but not aimed at Clint. Yet. Clint knew how perilous this situation was and if he didn’t do something soon he was going to lose the very little footing he had. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck even in the cold of the room as Clint took in his surroundings. Big machines with lots of buttons were behind him. The walls on his right were mostly computer screens. There was a giant fucking gun that scrambled genes, apparently, next to him and that meant that the only exit was behind the two idiots armed to the teeth in front of him. Clint didn’t trust for a second that the trigger-happy fools wouldn’t shoot him the moment he made a move.

“Listen, I’m sure we can work something out here,” Clint tried, not liking the restlessness growing in the henchmen’s postures.

The man he was holding hostage laughed and Clint tightened his chain to cut it off in retaliation to the man’s previous actions. He coughed but the moment Clint loosened his grip, he started talking, “Mr. Barton. You disappoint me-”

“Oh fuck this,” Clint snarled, tightening the chain again, “Shut the hell up, _Agent Smith_ , or I will choke you out I freaking swear to-”

Just then the door was thrown open with a resounding bang. Everyone jumped. The goons spun around to face the new arrival but Clint didn’t get a chance to see who it was before the scientist took advantage of his surprise and rolled out of Clint’s grip. Then he was on top of Clint, squeaky, rubber hands circling Clint’s throat and strangling him for real. Clint sucked in a broken, startled breath at the same time another person gasped from the other side of the room loudly.

“My Clint!” Wade cried out and Clint could have laughed he was so happy to hear the other man’s voice if he wasn’t so busy shoving at the scientist and struggling desperately to breathe, “You roasted him to smithereens!” Wade let out a battle cry and Clint heard him draw his swords, “You fuckers are going to wish all I did was kill you! I’m going to make you _eat_ your own _hearts_ and maybe you’ll feel even a shred of the pain-”

“Wade!” Clint managed, vision swirling in and out as his limbs weakened, “ _W_ _ade_!”

“Boo Bear!” Wade shrieked in delight, “You’re alive!”

His head swam from the lack of air as Clint listened to Wade fighting behind him. Struggling, Clint kneed the scientist in the stomach but to no effect. It didn’t matter though because in the next second, Wade’s boot was colliding with the side of the man’s stupid-looking face and he went flying. Clint gasped the moment hands left his neck and immediately coughed when air felt like shards of glass in his throat. Wade was instantly at his side, helping Clint sit up and muttering reassurances to him as Clint’s world came back into focus. He blinked over at Wade and Clint’s heart did a thousand happy little cartwheels in his chest. Wade was _here_. Wade came for _him_. Clint watched as Wade tore his mask off and dipped forward into Clint’s space.

Clint tried to tell Wade to stop; there was blood sticking tacky, hot and metallic, in his mouth, but Wade didn’t give him the chance. He licked his way past the red painting Clint’s teeth and kissed him with no hesitation. When Clint’s tongue curled reflexively against Wade’s, smearing his blood into Wade’s mouth, Wade only smirked against his lips and pulled him closer. When they finally parted for air, Wade grinned and Wade’s teeth were as bloody as his own. Clint was so madly in love with the other man, he was dizzy with it.

“I love you,” his voice was hoarse as he cupped Wade’s cheek and Wade hurriedly got to his knees next to Clint, looking all worried.

Wade’s hands darted over him, checking for wounds but from the look in Wade’s eyes he was also reassuring himself that Clint was still alive. Clint briefly wondered if Wade perhaps hadn’t lost interest in him at all, if Clint had been wrong--so completely and utterly wrong, about Wade not wanting to be with him. Maybe it was the adrenaline in Clint’s veins or the fact that moments ago he had almost been turned into a goopy pile on the floor but Clint felt brave. Wade stopped to stare at his injured hand. Then Clint saw Wade reach for his band-aids and he finally found the nerve to speak.

“Wade,” Clint whispered but his voice felt incredibly _loud_ between them, “ _I love you_ ,” he repeated, “I want you to love me. I want to wake up every morning to your coffee and your smile and,” Clint gulped, “I want to be with you _always_. Wade…” Clint met Wade’s stunned gaze, “Will you marry me?”

Wade stuttered, eyes blinking in surprise, “No way.”

Clint’s whole world fell apart around him as his heart shattered in his chest with a physical ache so painful it brought tears to his eyes. “Yeah, that’s-” Clint chuckled bitterly, wiping at his eyes and smearing blood across his face on accident, “That’s what I thought you’d say. I get it. I’m not good enou-”

“Wait!” Wade caught Clint by his jaw and yanked his face up, “That came out wrong! I-”

“Wade, I know I’m an idiot but I’m not _that_ stupid,” Clint deflated in Wade’s hold, “Even I know what no means, okay?”

“You _are not_ an idiot! Now, listen to me,” Wade’s tone had Clint blinking up at him in surprise. He watched as Wade shuffled a hand around in his belt, “I didn’t mean no way as in _no way_ no way!” Wade lifted a little black box and Clint’s heart stuttered when Wade smiled his thousand watt smile that stole Clint’s breath, “I was shocked! I had this huge romantic plan. I had everyone we know help me so it would be spectacular. It took me _weeks_ of sneaking and sleuthing so you wouldn’t catch on,” Wade chuckled and Clint felt dizzy. Weeks. Wade couldn’t possibly mean he had wanted to- “I even got this,” when he opened the box a sob caught in Clint’s throat.

A ring.

Wade was on one knee, holding out a ring to him, and Clint couldn’t believe this was happening. “And then you just ask out of nowhere!” Wade shook his head in disbelief but he was still smiling, “Ruined all of my plans and all of my hard work means nothing and I’m _still_ the happiest guy in the whole _universe_ because this moment couldn't be more perfect. Of course I want to marry you, Clint. I’ve wanted to marry you since you told me you loved me and licked my jizz off your face,” Wade giggled and Clint let out a surprised, wet laugh, “So my answer is yes. A thousand times yes. Over and over yes. Will _you_ marry _me_?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Clint smiled, scrubbing a hand over his watering eyes as Wade slid the perfect ring on his right hand, avoiding his bloody left, “How did I get so fucking lucky?”

“I ask myself that every day, Schmoopsie Poo,” Wade leaned in to kiss him again but he paused just before their lips met, “I _love_ you. So fucking much.”

Clint felt it like Wade meant it. He _knew_ he did. “I love you too, Wade,” Clint whispered before sealing their lips together.

“Great. That was lovely. Beautiful,” Nat’s voice had Clint jolting away from Wade in surprise, “Now let’s get out of here.”

Wade and Clint both spun around to see the doorway crowded with their fellow heroes. Black Widow, Spiderman, Wolverine and-- _Kate_? Clint gaped at her and Kate lifted a little wave in his direction.

“Congrats, you two,” she gave them both two thumbs up, “I knew you had it in you.”

“Yes, great, congratulations,” Spiderman gestured to the exit wildly, “Can we _please_ get out of here before this place blows up?!”

Clint had almost forgotten where they were, “Yep. Right. Let’s go.”

“If we hurry we can still make the surprise party!” Wade said as he looped an arm around Clint’s waist and hauled him up. Clint didn’t really need the help but he didn’t make any move to fight it.

“What surprise party?” Clint asked as they made their way to the door.

“If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise,” Wade answered cryptically, “and if we hurry there may even be a popsicle or two left for you to eat and for me to watch you eat.”

Clint glanced at Kate, quirking a brow, and her knowing smile made him decidedly uncomfortable. “Okay?” he shrugged, “Lead the way, I guess?”

“That’s the spirit!” Wade kissed at his temple, “Barney totally owes me five bucks. He actually thought you wouldn’t want to marry me.”

“I definitely want to-wait,” Clint jerked, gasping in surprise, “ _Barney_ knew about this.”

“Oh, Hawkeye, you poor soul,” Spiderman laid a hand on Clint’s shoulder and Clint whirled around to gape at him, “ _Everyone_ knew. Wade hasn’t been able to shut up about it for months. Even _Surtur_ _the fire demon of Muspelheim_ knew.”

Logan snorted, “Surprised you missed it, Hawkeye.”

“I didn’t! I just-” and Clint stopped himself, “I thought it was something else.”

Kate gave him an understanding smile, “I’m glad you were wrong.”

“Yeah,” Clint had never felt so _right_ about being so completely wrong, “Me too.”

Then Wade pecked his cheek, “Me three.”

Clint couldn’t stop himself from turning into Wade, sealing their lips together for a proper kiss. They were both smiling as the AIM facility burst into flames behind them.


End file.
